It is hard for me to truly “live,” when my life is currently set in front of me, and I am told told to live it.
It is hard to dream within the confines of painted cinder block, and when those dreams are swiftly pushed out by endless lectures.
It is hard to move forward in life when the system that runs it, is archaic.
It is hard to pursue a desirable future, when I am given no room to roam.
It is hard to explore what I may love, when a stack of papers hauls me away.
It is hard to say there is progress, when the only gear seems to be a snails pace.
And it will be hard for me to think amongst all that open space, when the only teacher I’ve had is myself.